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When we said friends forever and crossed pinkies like grade-schoolers, I could only believe those words lodged in your heart like they did mine because every time I think back I can't help but remember the late-night conversations under star lit constellations, and study sessions where we learned more about each other than we did Biology   but now it's clear that each beat of your heart has made those words fade, and you could care less about crossed pinkies but I'll still see you, and hear your voice whispering forever, and I'll still wish the meaning hadn't changed- like you.

Depression isn’t true, my dear Depression isn’t real. It’s just a silly tragedy You’ve forced yourself to feel. Anxiety is fake, my friend You wonder why it’s there. But others have it worse than you! Stop forming false despair. Cutting is dramatic, love, It’s ugly, and it’s dumb. Why not just get over it? Is the attention fun? Suicide is stupid, dear, And selfish, if I may. Get over yourself, darling, Can you hear these things I say? Why aren’t you replying, love? Oh, where could you have gone? I never meant to hurt you, love, Did I say something wrong? Why aren’t you replying, dear